.: the WALL [part 2] :.
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Postscript 1
"Daddys flown across the ocean"
... so I had this plan, and I had this hardware gear, and I had these cut lengths of sleeper, so the next stage was to sink post holes, right? Originally, I thought that hand-digging the holes was sane, until I realised that the holes needed to be 650mm deep. I layed a stringline - well, in reality I tied a bit of string to the fence one end and a cricket stump [always new they were good for something] to the other and pulled it taut as a guide, only to discover that either the tight string was warped, or the fence was .. flooping typical. Lined up a line of sleepers with the string, plopped posts approximately where they would go, used another cricket stump to bang a dent [reference hole] in the ground to indicate where to dig, repeated that for the length of the wall.
"Leaving just a memory"
Abandoning all hope of digging by hand, i rang my trusty hire guy [still laughing from the previous hire no doubt] and inquired about powered digging options. He suggested a one person petrol driven jobby, sounded hoopy, so off to the hire place i drove, got the safety drill on what to do and how to start it, and how to dig holes with it [do I look that stupid? prolly best not to answer that]. Brought it home, tried a test hole after I located a dent [it rained the night after I banged the reference holes] ...Now this think is like a large whippersnipper with a giant corkscrew underneath, right? And the corkscrew is attached to the enginey end by a bolt and nut..right? Everyone [except me] realises that these things are loud and vibratey, so after denting the ground barely with this thing, then realising that the ground immediately under the green stuff [some of which is lawn] is hard as rocks, because it contains rocks and tree roots, one might assume the tool is not right for the job? I persevered, however, assuming I was just not holding my mouth right or something. Having lost the nut, and the bolt popping out, causing the engine and the blade to part company, I put in a new bolt and 2 nuts, which seemed to stop it unscrewing itself as it vibrated wildly. Each solid obstacle the blade encountered caused the blade to stop turning suddenly, but elementary physics students realise that the whole thing still wants to turn... right? [angular momentum or some such] ...so the thing I was holding thwaps me on the hip [which is black and blue now with bruises ... coulda been worse if you consider what is also at that height]... persevered for a coupla hours until i was about to give up, posts do not need burying, right? On a break I rang the hire guy, he suggested I must need the 2-man digger - is used for heay work, why the floop could he not have told me this first I do not know...
"Snapshot in the family album"
.. so I packed the small digger in to the boot, returned it in exchange for a 2-man post hole digger. This monster is a mower engine on a figure-of-eight handle, with a nasty spikey corkscrewy bitty thing [auger] that was sharp. Took two to lift it without the drill bit on alone. Enlisted the daughter [she is young, most of her bits are in good shape]. We re-drilled the first hole and it went swimmingly. Tried the second, encountered a tree root [some 8cm diameter] ... bit stopped, both me and her were thrown by the machine - her into the fence [ouch]. Stuff exact measurements we decided, moved that hole a little to the left to avoid the root and all was hoopy. Interestingly, from then on, when we encountered tree roots, the drilly thing just chewed straight through them, complaining intertia-wize very little.
"Daddy what else did you leave for me?"
...dig a little bit, heave it outta the hole, clear the hole of rubble and dirt, move to the next one, repeat until all holes are sufficiently deep was the plan. We ran out of natural light by the time we finished 5 holes [placing the post in the finished hole was satisfying. Leaving them there so one could see what had been achieved was also necessary]. More tomorrow we resolved, feeling exhausted and nursing blisters and bruises.
"Daddy, what d ja leave behind for me?!?"
... so I decided to set my alarm, being notorious for sleeping when exhausted, I did not want to sleep in when it would be relatively cool in the early morning [and the neighbours could get stuffed if they didnae like the noise]. Apparently it stormed that night, was too shagged to notice. Went to start digging to find some of the partially completed holes partially filled with water. Lesson #7: hard clay + water = soft clay. Lesson #8: clay sticks. Lesson #9: getting post hole digger out of hole in which it is stuck with clay is less an exercise in futility and more about weightlifting with disgusting schlurping/sucking sounds.
"All in all it was just a brick in the wall."
...generally, second day digging went fairly fast, started 8am, finished last hole 10.30am, placed all posts, took digger back after wash down, showered, applied muscle relaxant [go carlton brand muscle relaxant], fell asleep from exhaustion. Awoke in time to take daughter to work [poor possum, checkout chick after such a digging ordeal .. still, she is young, right?] then went grocery shopping [did I mention masochism is a hobby?] as I gradually siezed. Shoulders and arms stopped working, then knees went wobbly, then watched some telly b4 becoming totally incapacitated. Hobbled to bed, slept solidly [much to my relief, often when I am really tired, I am also unable to sleep]. Awoke today 10.30am [for me, that is really sleeping in] and altho the shoulders and arms are still like jelly, they ache less, allowing me to notice the back and knee pain ... yee gods, what a wreck I am at times. Fortunately, this too shall pass. Decided to have a rest day today, so baked some really nice chocolate chip cookies and a lemon and poppy seed drizzle cake [yes ...without any nuts, do not ask]... to be continued.
"All in all it was all just bricks in the wall."
Apologies: Mr P. Ffloyd
"Daddys flown across the ocean"
... so I had this plan, and I had this hardware gear, and I had these cut lengths of sleeper, so the next stage was to sink post holes, right? Originally, I thought that hand-digging the holes was sane, until I realised that the holes needed to be 650mm deep. I layed a stringline - well, in reality I tied a bit of string to the fence one end and a cricket stump [always new they were good for something] to the other and pulled it taut as a guide, only to discover that either the tight string was warped, or the fence was .. flooping typical. Lined up a line of sleepers with the string, plopped posts approximately where they would go, used another cricket stump to bang a dent [reference hole] in the ground to indicate where to dig, repeated that for the length of the wall.
"Leaving just a memory"
Abandoning all hope of digging by hand, i rang my trusty hire guy [still laughing from the previous hire no doubt] and inquired about powered digging options. He suggested a one person petrol driven jobby, sounded hoopy, so off to the hire place i drove, got the safety drill on what to do and how to start it, and how to dig holes with it [do I look that stupid? prolly best not to answer that]. Brought it home, tried a test hole after I located a dent [it rained the night after I banged the reference holes] ...Now this think is like a large whippersnipper with a giant corkscrew underneath, right? And the corkscrew is attached to the enginey end by a bolt and nut..right? Everyone [except me] realises that these things are loud and vibratey, so after denting the ground barely with this thing, then realising that the ground immediately under the green stuff [some of which is lawn] is hard as rocks, because it contains rocks and tree roots, one might assume the tool is not right for the job? I persevered, however, assuming I was just not holding my mouth right or something. Having lost the nut, and the bolt popping out, causing the engine and the blade to part company, I put in a new bolt and 2 nuts, which seemed to stop it unscrewing itself as it vibrated wildly. Each solid obstacle the blade encountered caused the blade to stop turning suddenly, but elementary physics students realise that the whole thing still wants to turn... right? [angular momentum or some such] ...so the thing I was holding thwaps me on the hip [which is black and blue now with bruises ... coulda been worse if you consider what is also at that height]... persevered for a coupla hours until i was about to give up, posts do not need burying, right? On a break I rang the hire guy, he suggested I must need the 2-man digger - is used for heay work, why the floop could he not have told me this first I do not know...
"Snapshot in the family album"
.. so I packed the small digger in to the boot, returned it in exchange for a 2-man post hole digger. This monster is a mower engine on a figure-of-eight handle, with a nasty spikey corkscrewy bitty thing [auger] that was sharp. Took two to lift it without the drill bit on alone. Enlisted the daughter [she is young, most of her bits are in good shape]. We re-drilled the first hole and it went swimmingly. Tried the second, encountered a tree root [some 8cm diameter] ... bit stopped, both me and her were thrown by the machine - her into the fence [ouch]. Stuff exact measurements we decided, moved that hole a little to the left to avoid the root and all was hoopy. Interestingly, from then on, when we encountered tree roots, the drilly thing just chewed straight through them, complaining intertia-wize very little.
"Daddy what else did you leave for me?"
...dig a little bit, heave it outta the hole, clear the hole of rubble and dirt, move to the next one, repeat until all holes are sufficiently deep was the plan. We ran out of natural light by the time we finished 5 holes [placing the post in the finished hole was satisfying. Leaving them there so one could see what had been achieved was also necessary]. More tomorrow we resolved, feeling exhausted and nursing blisters and bruises.
"Daddy, what d ja leave behind for me?!?"
... so I decided to set my alarm, being notorious for sleeping when exhausted, I did not want to sleep in when it would be relatively cool in the early morning [and the neighbours could get stuffed if they didnae like the noise]. Apparently it stormed that night, was too shagged to notice. Went to start digging to find some of the partially completed holes partially filled with water. Lesson #7: hard clay + water = soft clay. Lesson #8: clay sticks. Lesson #9: getting post hole digger out of hole in which it is stuck with clay is less an exercise in futility and more about weightlifting with disgusting schlurping/sucking sounds.
"All in all it was just a brick in the wall."
...generally, second day digging went fairly fast, started 8am, finished last hole 10.30am, placed all posts, took digger back after wash down, showered, applied muscle relaxant [go carlton brand muscle relaxant], fell asleep from exhaustion. Awoke in time to take daughter to work [poor possum, checkout chick after such a digging ordeal .. still, she is young, right?] then went grocery shopping [did I mention masochism is a hobby?] as I gradually siezed. Shoulders and arms stopped working, then knees went wobbly, then watched some telly b4 becoming totally incapacitated. Hobbled to bed, slept solidly [much to my relief, often when I am really tired, I am also unable to sleep]. Awoke today 10.30am [for me, that is really sleeping in] and altho the shoulders and arms are still like jelly, they ache less, allowing me to notice the back and knee pain ... yee gods, what a wreck I am at times. Fortunately, this too shall pass. Decided to have a rest day today, so baked some really nice chocolate chip cookies and a lemon and poppy seed drizzle cake [yes ...without any nuts, do not ask]... to be continued.
"All in all it was all just bricks in the wall."
Apologies: Mr P. Ffloyd
| Feeling | :: | sore but satisfied [boarding school days all over again?] |
| Watching | :: | Teachers on ABC TV [laughing because characters are like some of my workmates] |
| Reading | :: | Rolling Stone Issue 649 [just for the gratuitous swearing and blatant nudity] |
| Hearing | :: | "Mesopotamia" by The B52s [must get me one of dem beehive hairdoos] |
| Accessed | :: | 2565 times so far, not that anyone is counting. |
pockalanche (n.) Perpetual action of reaching down to pick up an item fallen from a shirt pocket, only to have another item fall out.